


My Flame Burns for Thee

by makesometime



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: (sort of), F/M, Married Sex, Pre-Series, Strip Tease, When things were good and they were happy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-22
Updated: 2018-04-22
Packaged: 2019-04-26 10:39:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,259
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14400402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/makesometime/pseuds/makesometime
Summary: It is treason, no doubt, to find such amusement in the ode. By rights, she should have the guards collect the girl, punish her for such impertinence. But it would be the height of hypocrisy for her to chastise another for thinking ill of the Fire Lord. Have she and her husband not whispered worse in their private moments?





	My Flame Burns for Thee

**Author's Note:**

> I am still making my way through the series, slowly but surely, but this idea has been with me for too long not to indulge it.

Her husband is a serious man. Throughout the first few months of their marriage, the only person she sees dare to poke fun at him is Iroh. Considering how poorly Ozai takes such treatment, she doesn't much entertain the urge to do so herself. 

She teases, she laughs, she kisses his throat while he's trying to concentrate on a missive but it is never fun at his expense. To draw a smirk or a soft laugh from the Prince is an achievement indeed, one that leaves her feeling warm all over, flush with a quiet victory. 

It’s only when she indulges in a spot of eavesdropping, a silly task that she hasn’t given a care for for years, that Ursa finds a thread of humour she may be able to pluck. She overhears the gardeners talking, earlier than anyone in the Palace should is expected to be awake. They tend the blossoms with gentle hands, sharing quiet conversation that just barely floats to the open window she’s settled beside.

One of the younger workers, newly transferred to this duty, talks of a friend in the Earth Kingdom. They have a song they enjoy, apparently, which mocks Azulon and his rule. The girl sings a couple of lines, foolish in her inexperience, before she is quickly shushed by one of the more seasoned staff. 

Yet Ursa has heard enough to make her hide a smile behind her hand as she walks from the window. It is treason, no doubt, to find such amusement in the ode. By rights, she should have the guards collect the girl, punish her for such impertinence. But it would be the height of hypocrisy for her to chastise another for thinking ill of the Fire Lord. Have she and her husband not whispered worse in their private moments?

She finds herself unknowingly humming the tune as she readies herself for the day ahead, Ozai giving her a quizzical look when he passes her to leave for his office.

“You’re in a good mood, wife.”

Ursa smiles, tucking her fingers in the base of his collar and fetching her nose against his jaw. “Should I not be?”

His hand settles heavy on her waist, thumb rubbing over the swell of her hip bone. It makes her shiver, gasping into his throat. “I don’t believe I’ve heard you sing before.”

“If you would like, I might propose a... _private_ performance.”

Ozai smirks, leaning away from her as his fingers tighten their grip. His eyes spark with a dangerous light when he ducks his head to brush his lips over hers, not quite a kiss. “Convenient, then, that we have no plans this evening.”

He leaves her smiling to herself before the vanity mirror, combing through her hair and planning exactly how she may wish to proceed.

#

When Ozai arrives back in their room that evening, Ursa allows him to pull her into his embrace, allows his indulgent kisses, the searching press of his hands. 

In turn, he allows her to guide him back through to the bedroom, allows her to draw his robes away and into a pile on the floor. 

They work as a team, until they don’t - she pushes on his shoulders and he grumbles but sinks down, seated on the end of their bed without a word. Ursa takes a few steps back, admiring the sight of her husband stripped to the waist and uncommonly passive in anticipation of her intentions.

She starts with the pins holding her hair in place, taking out the golden adornments and laying them to one side. She starts to hum the now-familiar tune, glancing back at the bed to see Ozai fold one hand over his knee, the other settling beside him.

He doesn’t know, at first. What she plans. But it comes to him in a flash as soon as her fingers toy at her collar. He smiles, darkly, watching as she tugs her robes down to expose her shoulders, clutching the edges in a tight grip at her sternum.

“ _Fire lord_ …” Ursa sings, fighting a grin. She bites her lip at Ozai’s chuckle, dropping one side of the robes to reveal more of her arm, her back. She twirls in place, allowing the heavy material to fall away, exposing the full bare length of her back, hidden only by her hair.

“ _My flame burns for thee_ …” She peeks over her shoulder, swallowing a groan. Her husband shamelessly moves his palm to cup himself through his trousers. Ursa shivers, a hot rush of arousal chasing down her spine to pool in her belly.

She drops the robes and turns in a circle to face him with slow, purposeful steps. She hums more of the tune, despite being out of words, just to savour the sight of him enjoying her. Ozai’s muscles flex as he moves his palm over the thick outline of his erection, strength rippling through his torso in the light and shadow of the warm torches.

Ursa moans softly, hands on her gently swaying hips. She moves to the music in her head, pushing her underclothes down to join the pool of abandoned clothing at her feet. She takes a first step closer, then another, lifting her chin in silent instruction.

She wonders if anyone would believe it. The haste with which Ozai will obey her wishes, given… _appropriate_ encouragement. By the time she reaches him, he has slipped the rest of his clothing off, kicked away to be considered later.

He halts her from climbing astride his waist, ducking his head to rest his forehead just below her breasts. He smiles and presses hot, open-mouthed kisses to her skin when she shifts, clenching her thighs together. Another time, he might chastise her for impatience. Now, his hands cup her backside, pulling her closer. He chases his tongue around her navel and then leans back, humming when she lifts a knee up onto the bed.

“You do not wish to continue your performance?”

Ursa huffs, giving a kiss to his jaw, his chin, his nose. “There is no more to sing, husband.”

Ozai’s face twists with pleasure when her slick heat meets the length of his cock. It brings her an overwhelming sense of power to see him so undone by such a simple act, something so completely effortless on her part.

“You learnt of it recently?” He purrs, licking a stripe up her throat and urging her hips to rock into him. “Or was it your own invention?”

“I have heard it is popular in the Earth Kingdom.” She replies, cooing when he growls and holds her tighter. “Let us not think further on that this night, husband.”

Ozai is silent as he takes her chin between his thumb and forefinger, leading her mouth to his. His kiss is searching, deep and all-encompassing. Akin to his love, in every way.

Ursa whimpers when one of his hands disappears between them, teasing her clit, shifting his length to her sit at entrance. She circles her hips, swallowing his groan as he slips inside her, inch by inch.

Even like this, with each flex of her thighs dictating their rhythm, with her nails digging into the base of his skull and his lips teasing over the rise of her breasts, Ozai has control. Ursa takes him, but her husband rules.

_Her flame burns for him._

She laughs, tipping her head back and crying out into the otherwise silent bedroom and grinding her hips down greedy desperation.

_Oh_ , if only the bards of the Earth Kingdom knew...


End file.
